


What Good Does A Blind Seer Do?

by Kiyuomi



Series: JJBek Week 2017 [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Age Victuuri, JJBek Week 2017, M/M, Non-skater AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Red String of Fate, Rockstar/DJ AU, Slow Burn, Young JJ, Young Otabek, Yuuri being wonderful dad material
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 22:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11907663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyuomi/pseuds/Kiyuomi
Summary: Rockstar/DJ AU + Soul Mate Au





	What Good Does A Blind Seer Do?

                JJ is every bit of thirteen years and three hundred sixty-two days old when the article comes out that next year’s tour is mostly sold out in Europe, the United States, and of course, Canada. There’s more than a few picking at the lead singer’s upcoming birthday, some questioning who will show up to the banquet. A few articles hazard tentative guesses as to who his fate is intertwined with; not a single person listed is earning anything less than five million a year.

                JJ earns more than that, but he’ll never say the amount on camera. His name is an “investment”; his family built from famous athletes and business owners and the good few athletes.  JJ writes and sings, orchestrates with the band and does a collaboration thrice a year. He’s one the youngest people on the _Money Millionare_ ’s list of people, and he rocks it. For the past two years, he has yet to have a concert hall not completely sold out.

                JJ is expected to end up with a French singer overseas.

                Jean-Jacques is every bit of thirteen years and three hundred sixty-two days old when he gets his math midterm result—a solid ninety-four. He gets a few texts from Isabella, a sweet girl he’s grown up with. There may or may not be a spark when they hang out after class, fingers brushing between tutors and lunch. He used to go to choir with her on Friday afternoons.

                Jean-Jacques has never been on a date. He burns half his lunches but makes a mean sandwich. He babysits his little siblings half the time, spending Sundays at church and Tuesdays, and Thursdays during Spring, doing volunteer work. It’s normally attending pet shelters, but he’s recently been obsessed with attending nursing homes. Mom said it’s sweet.

                Jean-Jacques isn’t expecting anyone.

                It’s all fine except Jean-Jacques Leroy is JJ Leroy.

                Leroy is every bit of fourteen years and two hours when he wakes up to the sun rise, tucked away in his blankets. He brushes his teeth and washes his hair, shimmies on a button up shirt. Mom calls him down to prepare for the ball.

                It’s not every day Victor Nikiforov shows up to an awakening.

 

♥

                Otabek Altin is every bit of thirteen years and three hundred sixty-two days old when he picks out the birthday cake for his party. An ice cream cake—the good kind, with cookie crumbles between layers. Mom says his cousins will pay for the event, just as his family did theirs, and he doesn’t need to worry about asking for another layer. He asks for two more flavors, even though the shop staff give mom an exasperated look.

                Otabek comes from a long line of hard workers and strong believers. He also comes from a strong line of friends turned lovers; mother and father were in the same prep school class when their string emerged. Otabek doesn’t have a crush, not really, but he likes the American punk girl from science class and the kind assistant teacher who always speaks so gently.

                Otabek doesn’t really know what he’s off to do for his life. He knows that he likes space; the brave sciences, the brave astronauts. He knows that he adores marine life, from its flora to fauna and the microscopic bits of life that float in the water. He knows that he enjoys dance, even though father only let him enlist in case his future lover could be a dancer, and that the sway of his body during a dip is intoxicating.

                The only thing Otabek knows is that in three days, mom is going to bring him to a man in a clinic who promises to help people find their soul mates. A man who can see, supposedly, the red string of fate that binds people together, whether they live in Otabek’s neighborhood or his city, in his country or the world. A man who has directed people to the person they are to fall in love with.

                The only thing Otabek knows is that in three days, everything is going to change.

 

♥

                JJ is the older of the two.

                No one is allowed into the awakening ceremony, but many reporters do try to sneak in. They are always stopped well before even trekking close to the large twin doors that hold the birthday boy and the man who sees. The _men_ who see.

                Victor Nikiforov brought his husband, Yuuri Katsuki. JJ is only mildly offended by his tie.

                Yuuri does the reading instead of Victor. It draws more than a few accusatory talks about whether Victor is starting to lose his sight, but the couple shoulders on regardless. Yuuri talks to JJ in a skittish tone no different than the nervous first time interviewers he speaks to for smaller articles; when Yuuri holds his hand however, JJ is suddenly reminded how much older Yuuri is. How much wiser, with his soul mate by his side. How much fonder, when he brushes a stray hair tickling JJ’s eyes to the side, and asks him to talk about what kind of presents he wants for his birthday.

                Yuuri laughs when he makes a sordid joke about a motorcycle, knowing that his parents would never allow him onto any dangerous vehicle. Yuuri’s stomach growls when JJ talks about the buffet outside, about which dishes are made by which cooks and how he knows, because Natalie is from Italy but she never cooks Italian without a little Cuban flair and Johnathon hates baking because it’s too slow, but he always makes the most delicious _Australian chocolate cake_ and JJ knows he baked one today. JJ mentions that he’s working on a new song for his soul mate but it’s so hard when he doesn’t know who they are, and Yuuri hums. He talks about himself, back in Japan, lost and confused because his red string pointed to someone in a different place every time. It was only his early obsession with ice skating that led him to come to the conclusion that he was paired with Victor Nikiforov.

                He had promptly freaked out, speaking in such exaggerated tones that JJ’s chest hurt from laughter, but it had all worked out for the best. Victor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki hold the title of the world’s best pair skaters: gold.

                Yuuri tenses at one point, expression darkening and JJ cuts off to watch. Looks at his eyes dart from side to side for a moment, eyebrows furrowing, and he brings his other hand up to brush back his bangs. Nikiforov hums in the background, sounding pleased and amused and proud all at once and JJ wants someone like that.

                “Younger,” Yuuri murmurs, finally letting go of JJ’s hand. “Your soul mate is younger. They’re,” a girl? A boy? “Living quite far away. Certainly not anywhere within the city.” That’s a lot of people. The disappointment must show on his face because Yuuri draws his eyes away, hands twitchy. “Uh. They are artistic. Probably loves music.” He pats down imaginary dust from his pants, cracking a little smile. “Just like you.”

                JJ nods, waiting, though there’s nothing left to say. Victor claps his hands and congratulates him, more focused on his lover than the awakening that just ended. Not much of one at all—the red string doesn’t come out until _both_ partners were awakened. A bit of a downer, overall, though JJ knows better than to wish that his partner was born on the same day, awakened at the same time.

                Yuuri talks to Victor in the same fidgety way he talks to JJ. It’s Nikiforov who tackles the reporters, brushing by most of them with a simple “he’s older!” Yuuri laughs, sheepish, and when JJ finally moves from the ornate chair in the center of the room he comes to his side. Yuuri smiles, uncertain, searching, and then he speaks.

                “The first time I met Victor, I was dead drunk.” Yuuri tells stories the way spider spin webs, smooth and tempting and JJ finds himself trapped in the moment, yearning to hear what’s next. Yuuri blushes when he mentions an especially embarrassing moment, laughs when he recalls something funny, and when JJ points out something incredibly silly, Yuuri admits his mistakes. “I must have horrified the people there.” Yuuri mumbles, pulling out his phone to show off some of the pictures. More than a few are scandalizing and JJ finds himself amused by Yuuri blushing and swiping past one nearly nude photo to find another even worse.

                “JJ, Victor can do your awakening next year. Would that be okay?” The question comes out of nowhere, sandwiched between a mental note not to let Yuuri near the bar and Yuuri talking about picking songs to skate to. Yuuri’s asking for permission to return. He’s asking JJ for permission.

                Except he’s not at all. Because Yuuri talks to JJ the way he talks to Victor, uncertain and skittish and then determined, loud in his silence. Yuuri talks in that charming manner, flustered and nervous but living, and he’s not talking to _JJ._ He’s talking to Jean-Jacques Leroy, fourteen years old and ten and a half hours.

                “I want you to do it,” JJ murmurs. He sounds _petulant_ , embarrassing, but all Yuuri does is utter a pleased noise.

                “I’d be honored.” Yuuri smiles and JJ finds himself lighting up, knowing it’s selfish but he wishes, he hopes, that his soul mate would treat him just as kind.

♥

                Otabek is thirteen years and three hundred sixty-four days and twenty-three hours and fifty-seven minutes thirty-two _seconds_ old when his name is called up. Mom squeezes his hand while his two older brothers fake bawl, wiping at their eyes while his elder sister does blink suspiciously fast. Dad is at work today, serving his country the way Otabek knows he should, the way dad wants him to, but instead he’s here, sitting in an overcrowded waiting room meant for fifteen people filled with thirty.

                The seer, doctor, awakener, whatever the name that he wants to call himself, sits in a plain grey chair in the center of a secluded room. It’s larger than the waiting room, decorated with candles and perfumed with incense. Otabek breathes in the smoky scent, cinnamon, and approaches the empty seat across the man. It’s printed pink and green and garish, large gold buttons sewn in the armchair. Otabek glances over to the man, back to the seat, before he sits. It feels like he’s sinking into the fabric. The man prompts him to speak, and Otabek wonders if this is secretly a renovated therapy room.

                Otabek finds himself talking to the man. He speaks about his uncertainty for the future, the pressures to live up to his family. He talks about wanting his sister to go to art school, and about his eldest brother being a wonderful pilot, his second older brother being a wonderful boyfriend. He is the only one of the siblings so far to actually get together with his soul mate, and Otabek talks about that too. The man nods, quiet, tracing lines on Otabek’s palm while he talks and talks and talks about anything he can think up, nothing and everything.

                The man asks Otabek to speak about _himself_ , what he wants, and Otabek finds that the words flow a little rougher. Otabek thinks he’s a little tough, a strong man even though he’s a boy; he knows he’s imaginative. He talks about loving dance even though it’s silly, and how much he enjoys the feeling of ice cubes in tea. Otabek wonders about what love truly is, whether someone really needs to find their soul mate, and if he doesn’t find his then what is he meant to do? The man nods all the while, quiet, so quiet, and Otabek finds himself mumbling that he loves the sky. Loves the vast blue skyline, the white clouds that dot the surface. Otabek loves the stars that twinkle in the late afternoon and the moon, large at times and then so small he can never find it. He talks about the setting sun.

                The man tells him to stop. He hums and thinks and twitches all the while as Otabek watches. He doesn’t see anything, doesn’t feel anything, doesn’t know whether this man is any more real than the many other similar clinics that are tucked away in the city.

                Then the man tells him he’s done with a warm smile, and Otabek suddenly feels it all so real.

                The official document will get mailed to him two days later. His sister claps him on the shoulder, proud even without a proper answer, and they both laugh when his eldest brother hastily wipes away a tear.

                Five to seven business days. Otabek wishes he could know now.

**Author's Note:**

> A variation of soul mate AU where some people can "see" red strings of fate that bind soul mates. This is not set in the same setting as Strike the Match, Matchmaker, though they use the same soulmate system.
> 
> The rockstar/DJ aspect comes in full force in the later chapters. Hope you enjoyed this!


End file.
